“Bother!” exclaimed Martin, “upon what errand is that fellow going to the chief? More mystery—I don’t like it.”
“Nonsense, Martin; there is no mystery that Prabu will not explain when we return on board. As for Kati, you cannot blame him for being faithful to his master; but now let us beat the jungle for a week’s rations.”
“Well, old fellow, perhaps, after all, you are right, so let us lose no more time,” he replied.
Then, having secured the sampan to the stump of a tree, we shouldered our rifles, and soon entered the forest. For several hours we wandered stealthily, for fear of tigers, among huge trees, luxuriant palms, and the teak (the oak of Java, the only island of the Archipelago in which it abounds).
The teak, like the oak, takes from eighty to a hundred years to reach maturity, rising then to a height of eighty or a hundred feet, and having a girth of from five to eight feet. Anent this monarch of the Indian forest and “the brave old oak,” Crawford writes, “It is singular, that among the innumerable varieties of woods which exist in both worlds, from the Arctic Circle to the Equator, two only—the oak and the teak—should, by their strength, durability, and abundance, be fit for the higher purposes of the arts, domestic and naval architecture, and the fabrication of great machinery. The geographical distribution of the oak has a wider limit than the teak. It exists in Europe, Asia, and America, to within ten degrees of the Tropics. The teak exists in Asia only, in the countries lying between China and Persia, within the Tropics—being found but in the southern peninsula of India, in India beyond the Ganges to the confines of China, and in the island of Java.
“In comparing the qualities of the two woods, those of the teak will be found considerably to preponderate. It is equally strong as the oak, and somewhat more buoyant; its durability is more uniform and decided; and to insure that durability, it demands less care and preparation, for it may be put in use almost green from the forest, without danger of dry or wet rot. It is fit to endure all climates and alternations of climate; the oak, on the contrary, cracks and is destroyed by such alternations, and particularly by exposure to the rays of a tropical sun. The oak contains an acid, which corrodes and destroys iron; the teak not only has no such acid, but even contains an essential oil, which tends to preserve iron. The great superiority of the oak over the teak consists in its utility in the fabrication of vessels for holding liquids. The strong odor which the teak imparts to all liquids which are solvents of the essential oil in which that odor is contained, makes it unfit to be used for holding them. It makes good water-casks, but is unfit for wine, or any spirit but arrack, to which it imparts some of that peculiar flavor which some persons affect to relish. Another noteworthy forest tree is the nipah, or atap palm, whose leaves afford the natives thatching for their house-roofs and matting for their floors, and from the sap of which is extracted a drinkable wine.”
Then we had to beat through bushes of the prickly rattan-cane, so well known to my readers, but used, in the Archipelago, for ligature and cordage, and possessing a fruit of the size of a pullet’s egg. Then through little forests of the bamboo, whose uses are so numerous that they may be mentioned as commencing with the cradle and ending with the grave; for it helps to form the first and yields the material for the last human garment.
Well, near sundown, or, as a Javanese would say, “the hour when the buffalo is brought back from the pastures,” we returned to the sampan with a tolerably successful bag of game—namely, a young fawn and a dozen birds, chiefly partridges and a species of wood-pigeon.
“Not bad sport, Martin,” said I, as we tossed the game into the boat.
“No—and the sooner we reach the prahu now the better; for in another hour or so, when the beasts of the forest come down to the river to take their evening draught, the crocodiles will be out in swarms.”